


In Which All the Shirts Go Missing

by completelyhopeless



Series: Shirt Theft [24]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, F/M, Humor, possible crack, shirt theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyhopeless/pseuds/completelyhopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys experience the aftermath of a meeting of the shirt theft club. And alcohol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which All the Shirts Go Missing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TourmalineQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/gifts).



> For the prompt: _[Any, any, "The Sunlight! It burns!" (The Simpsons)](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/339191.html?thread=60009207#t60009207)_
> 
> Apparently, this is what happens post shirt theft club meetings.

* * *

“The sunlight! It burns!”

“Are you sure that's not your pasty white skin? Because there is an awful lot of it showing right now,” Stark said, giving Coulson a once over as he did. “Pasty, pasty white. I thought you agents were supposed to be in shape. Fitness tests and all.”

Coulson looked down, rubbing at his forehead. “What happened to my shirt?”

“She did.” Steve answered, pointing to May. Coulson felt his cheeks heating up as he saw her in almost nothing but the shirt he knew he'd worn here last night. She smirked at him over her tea cup, and he was sure he didn't actually want to know what happened last night.

“Okay, who authorized the drinking game? I know it wasn't me.”

“Oh, Coulson, you know you like drinking around us,” Barton said, and then he frowned. “Wait. No. Not the Russian assassin drinking me under the table and stealing my shirt thing again. Tasha, that's my favorite. Give it back.”

_“Nyet.”_

“Um... please?”

“Nah, leave it,” Stark said. “It looks better on her than it ever could on you. Speaking of which, Pepper, darling Pepper, wonderful Pepper—you are amazing this morning.”

“You're conceited,” she told him with a smile. “I can't believe you have an Iron Man shirt. No, I can. It's very you. It's just also so—”

“Hot on you. Very, very hot on you,” Stark said, pulling her into his arms.

Coulson groaned. “I thought you all got together last night for some kind of... club meeting?”

“We did,” May told him with another small smile.

“Then why do none of us have shirts and you are all wearing ours?”

“Could be worse,” Stark said, though Coulson would have thought he was way too invested in Pepper to pay attention to the rest of the conversation.

“How?”

“Darcy! Where the hell are my pants?”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, for me, the person yelling at Darcy about pants is Jason Todd, but I didn't specify in the fic, so I guess others can envision the one they want.


End file.
